


All Ripe For Dreamin’

by essenceofmeanin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean is Bad at Feelings, Gen, Protective Dean Winchester, Season 1, but for a good cause, nonconsensual drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-22
Updated: 2008-03-22
Packaged: 2019-01-07 13:51:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12234165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/essenceofmeanin/pseuds/essenceofmeanin
Summary: Dean's POV during Sam's nightmares during S1. Dean doses him with sleeping pills, and frets.





	All Ripe For Dreamin’

**Author's Note:**

> Dean's POV during Sam's nightmares during S1. Dean doses him with sleeping pills, and frets.

Title: All Ripe For Dreamin’  
Author: [](https://essenceofmeanin.livejournal.com/profile)[**essenceofmeanin**](https://essenceofmeanin.livejournal.com/)  
Rating/Characters/WC: R for language, Sam & Dean (gen), 1,100  
A/N: This story is for [](https://minkmix.livejournal.com/profile)[**minkmix**](https://minkmix.livejournal.com/) , Dean POV during Sam's nightmares in s1. Sam has bad dreams -- Dean doses him with sleeping pills, and frets.  
Beta'd by [](https://girlguidejones.livejournal.com/profile)[**girlguidejones**](https://girlguidejones.livejournal.com/) and [](https://hansbekhart.livejournal.com/profile)[](https://hansbekhart.livejournal.com/)**hansbekhart**.  
Disclaimer: The boys belong to the CW.

 

_“So, this one time, Dad and I were driving along blasting Zeppelin IV. And outta nowhere during Fool in the Rain he turns to me and he says, ‘Dean, that’s the only acceptable use of a steel drum I’ve ever heard.’”_

Dean wakes up every time Sam has nightmares. He figures it’s probably a byproduct of a childhood spent as Dad’s baby monitor, but it’s true. Every single goddamn time. The first few weeks on the road, Dean wakes Sam up too, and they stare awkwardly at each other for a minute before Sam turns back over and wraps a pillow around his head. Dean keeps his eyes open in the dark until he’s sure Sam’s asleep again. He’s a good brother. He knows nightmares suck balls.

_“A bird flew into my window right at the Nevada border once. Poor bastard saw it coming too, tried to fly backwards and everything. It’s like it happened in slow motion; I wasn’t even goin’ that fast. That bird was so small he didn’t even crack the glass. Almost puked, man, I felt that sorry for him.”_

But here’s the thing: after a few weeks, Sam stops sleeping. He won’t talk to Dean about what’s inside that freaky head of his, just stares blearily out the window and snaps at Dean for the music being too loud. Or the window being open. He nods off over research. It’s when Sam walks into a doorjamb that Dean starts to get worried. All he goddamn needs is for Sam to crash out during a hunt or something, get them both killed.

And Dean, well, he’s a good brother, like he said. He’s not above dosing Sammy with a touch of Ambien.

_“November tenth 1775, birthday of the Marine Corps. Dad does anything to celebrate it, I haven’t caught him at it. Remember that time I almost got signed up? Dad damn near blew the top off his head he was so pissed. Always thought that was strange.”_

It doesn’t help like it should. Maybe Dean’s not giving him enough, but he doesn’t want Sam to catch on. At least Sam’s sleeping, even if he’s still having nightmares. Dean’s not sleeping much; the noises that come out of Sam make his stomach hurt, like a dog dreaming about getting hit by a car or eaten by cats or something. His face gets all screwed up like when he was a kid and Dad was trying to feed him something he didn’t like. Dean can almost smell the canned peas some nights.

It’s okay that Dean’s not sleeping, though. He’s tougher than Sammy, he can handle it.

_“Don’t know that I ever told you the real story of how I popped my cherry. It’s a pretty good one -- I lost it drunk under a pool table in some redneck barn party. ACDC and rebel flags all the way. Yeah, Samantha, I know it was stupid. Tell you the truth it was kinda gross, too.”_

Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, but somewhere in all of this he starts talking to Sam. While Sam’s asleep. Yeah, it’s kinda weird. The first time Dean did it he spent the next day eyeballing Sam to see if he was just faking being asleep. But it’s nothing major; he’s just shootin’ the shit with his unconscious sibling. Hell -- four years apart, Dean’s got a lot of stories to tell.

_“Hey, did I tell you Bobby hates Dad now? Who didn’t see that one coming? Yeah, God only knows what the fuck they were fighting over, but the ornery old dude cocked the shotgun at Dad ‘n’ everything. Pretty awesome, huh Sammy? Wish I could go see the old bastard, but I dunno how him or Dad would take me coming around…”_

It’s just shootin’ the shit until one night Dean says _I don’t know what to do about you, Sammy. I don’t think Dad wants to be found and I don’t have clue one what to tell you about that._ And then he goes back to surfing internet porn with his brow furrowed, trying to ignore the way his fingers are twitching.

So it’s a little different than when they’re drinking beer or driving. Well… it’s a lot different. Dean’d rather fuck a yeti (not that they exist) than admit it, but damn if he didn’t miss his brother like a phantom limb sometimes. Dean doesn’t even know what he likes about the kid; he hasn’t had a decent night sleep in weeks, all Sammy does is bitch all the time and then cry all night. It makes Dean itch; it makes him want to kill something. Not that he’d ever look really deep inside himself, but if he did he’d see that it really makes him want to hug Sam. He doesn’t remember crawling into Sammy’s crib every night for weeks after the fire, but he’s got Dad’s journal in his pocket and that’s what it says. Dean tries to avoid those pages when he’s flipping through it.

So he soldiers on. He doses Sammy and listens to the nightmares. He cleans the room while he talks to his brother and wonders if the manager sitting in his office across the parking lot thinks he’s a tweaker. He tells Sam about the one time he did try meth, about the greatest sex in his life and how the next day was the worst ever. He actually shakes a finger at his brother and says _I better never hear that shit from you, kid._ The next story Dean tells him is about the one and only time he ever got stoned with Dad, but that’s not really even in the same ball park. Dean’s not worried about being consistent anyway.

He sharpens every single knife they have and hums Sam’s least favorite metal songs.

Dean’s looking forward to his first uninterrupted night of sleep the night a swamp monster takes a few small chunks out of Sam, and Sam gets lots of drugs for it instead of just a little once he’s all sewn up and not likely to bleed to death. Sam’s snoring like a baby within a half hour, and Dean tucks himself in with a smile.

He’s up in the middle of the night anyway, staring at the wall. The only thing he can think of to say is _Man, I remember the first time after you left for Stanford that I even realized you were really gone. I had Baba O’Riley cranked on the stereo, sunny day and everything. I wasn’t even thinking about anything, and then it just kinda hit me in the face. Like that._ Dean snaps his fingers even though no one’s listening and feels stupid for it. He doesn’t have anything else to say after that.


End file.
